


After Storms

by AnnaiseiNeedsMoreTea



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: -Ish, Bad Parent Janet Drake, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim is a smol boi, Unreliable Narrator, but he doesnt die here, no beta we die like jason todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29976825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaiseiNeedsMoreTea/pseuds/AnnaiseiNeedsMoreTea
Summary: Tim has a bad time.. but Bruce will make it better.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 98





	After Storms

**Author's Note:**

> //in which Bruce adopted Tim a few years earlier.

Tim woke up with a start. He blinks the sleepiness away, shifting in the tangles of his blankets in the dark bedroom, a chill creeping across his skin, the memories of the empty house fill him as he tries to sit up and scramble for the door, an instinct to camp out in the living room where it feels much safer and closer to the front door gives him a boost. 

Tim falls off the bed along with his sheets as thunder rumbles from the outside and the boy is suddenly aware of the storm brewing in Gotham. His heart loudly thumps against his chest, breath picking up in a panic as he carefully peels off the blankets with shaking hands, trying not to let his eyes wander in any other dark corner of his room, the pain in his knees was ignored.

He’s not scared, He shouldn’t be. Mother says that there is nothing scary about the house’s darkness because he is safe here and there was nothing that could get to him as long as the doors and windows are locked.

‘Oh for the love of God, Timothy. You are safe at home. There is nothing to be scared of in this house. Now stop being childish and run along.’

‘This is Gotham. We have real-life nightmares going around and shooting people. Dreams won’t get to you.’

Tim manages to untangle himself, he stands up with a deep breath.

Then he remembers, he wasn’t in his bedroom and these weren’t his sheets and that the thick curtain drawn over his window was not the one in his bedroom- his old bedroom.

He was in Wayne manor. He has been living here for almost a month now, after the accident.

The boy shakes his head, trying not to recall. Mother always told him that he should be brave and strong and take on anything with his chin up. So, instead, Tim inches towards his nightstand, crawling across the bed, reaching for the lamp or a flashlight because everything feels scary now, thanks to Jason and his desire to tell Tim ghost stories about the Manor.

But Tim is not afraid of being alone, not afraid of dark corners or ghosts. He lives in Gotham! And has that hobby of following caped vigilantes around at night despite his age. He shouldn’t be afraid. He’s a big boy and can handle himself.

The sound of the lightning cracks across the sky makes him jump as he switches the lamp on. Soft yellow light fills his corner; there are still shadowy parts of the room that he still does not want to look at. Tim opens the drawer in his nightstand and takes out his flashlight- the one Dick had gifted to him after he lost his while they were trekking the woods a week ago.  
He clutches it close to his chest and decides to go out of the room. Maybe sleeping in the cave tonight is better? The cave feels safer to him for some reason, but Mr. Pennyworth might not be happy with him if he finds out about Tim spending the night down there. 

Mr. Wayne would certainly be upset, especially there is a lot of important things down there that he is not allowed to touch. Mr. Pennyworth doesn’t like Tim spending too much time down at the cave, he says that it is inappropriate. Tim likes it, but he doesn’t want to be a bother, so he just follows what they tell him. The Wayne’s already took him in after the accident. They have done so much for him, being nice, giving him things, and talking to him. Jason spends a lot of time with him, they would play games and Tim would watch him train, and whenever Dick visits from Bludhaven, he would hang-out with him too, they would watch movies, and just last week, they went to the woods and let Tim take pictures. Mr. Wayne would eat breakfast and dinner with them. He would talk to Tim and tell him that his pictures were beautiful, He will check Tim’s homework and would sometimes help him before patrol starts. Mr. Pennyworth would bake him cookies and muffins, let him help in the kitchen and n the garden. The whole family was so kind to Tim, Mr. Wayne wasn’t even upset when he found out about Tim’s “hobbies” a month ago. This is much better than staying at that empty house.

He doesn’t want to upset anyone. Mr. Wayne might make him go back there if he gets too nosy, too annoying.

He carefully turns the knob to pull the door open, and peeks out of the dark hallway, scanning the area-using his flashlight to see better. He thinks of going to Jason’s room but remembers that he doesn’t like to be woken up for something trivial. Dick woke him up last weekend to go for a walk in the woods and Jason was very, very upset with Dick and cussed at him for waking him up so early in the morning. Tim doesn’t want to get yelled at, and if he does, it might wake Mr. Wayne up and maybe Mr. Pennyworth. That would be very rude. Maybe he’ll just settle for something cold to drink and go back to his bedroom? Mr. Pennyworth told him that he is welcome to get snacks from the kitchen if he gets hungry and Mr. Wayne told him that milk helps Jason and Dick sleep better at night, maybe that’ll work for him too.

Tim gulps and makes his way down the hall, flashlight pointed at where he is heading, careful of his footsteps as he makes his way past Jason and Mr. Wayne’s bedrooms. He was already a few steps away from the staircase, almost there-

“Tim?”

He jumps and turns to point his flashlight at the voice behind him, it was Mr. Wayne, standing in the hall, a hand shielding his eyes from the glare of the flashlight Tim is pointing at him. He quickly turns it off and looks at Mr. Wayne, there is nervousness bubbling in his stomach and he expects Mr. Wayne to tell him to go back to bed or something.

But Mr. Wayne doesn’t.

“What are you doing up, Tim? Are you hungry?” The man asks. Mr. Wayne only a few strides forward to reach Tim. Mr. Wayne was built like a mountain and was intimidating like one, he’s Batman! So of course, he is.

Mr. Wayne doesn’t sound annoyed or angry. He sounds curious and...worried? he looks worried. That’s the same look his teachers have when students at school get hurt during lunch break or get teased by others. His teacher gave him a similar look that time when she asked him where he got that bruise on his temple, he got it from miscalculating and ending up slamming his head against the iron pole at one of the fire escapes down in East End while following Robin, but he wouldn’t ever tell her that, so he just said that he got it falling down the bed and hitting his head against a table.

“I was just going back to my room, sir.” Tim lies. He doesn’t feel thirsty anymore. Mr.Wayne stares at him for a few more seconds before raising a brow.

“I didn’t know your bedroom was downstairs, Tim.” The man tells him with a soft smile. Tim scolds himself internally. Because of course, his lie was weak and he said it to the freaking Batman, so of course, he was going to get found out. Stupid. His mother must be ashamed of him.

“I- I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne.” He apologizes, looking down at his feet. He does not see Bruce frown. The man crouches down in front of him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Kiddo. It’s okay, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” He tells him, Tim bites down his lip and faces Mr. Wayne, the man was smiling at him.

“Are you hungry? Do you need a drink?” Mr. Wayne was asking him and giving him another of that same kind look that he gives his sons. Tim wonders when would Mr.Wayne get tired of him and would ignore him. His parents did, they didn’t love him, they were always away, they hated him so much that they died just to get away from him.

Other kids at school find him weird, there were those nannies that would call him creepy when they think no one can hear him, Mrs. Mac is nice, but she wasn’t always around. His parents would scold him for his mistakes, and he can’t seem to please them enough to make them stay.

He will never get another chance at that, it seems.

Everyone eventually gets tired of him and it won’t be too long till the Waynes get sick of him too.

But he’s a good boy, right? He’s a good boy and he does his very best and he tries to be polite. He aces his tests and he’s always on top of his class but why is that not enough for people to stay? Is there something he missed? Did people forget to tell him about an important thing that he should accomplish? Mother always said that he should strive for better. He is learning, he is. But why didn’t his parents just stay with him? Why did Mr. Wayne have to be the one to give him this look? 

Why, Why, Why

“-reathe, kiddo. Hey Tim? Timothy.”

He startles and finds himself face-to-face with a worried Mr. Wayne. The older man was holding him by his shoulders, eyebrows scrunched together, a frown on his lips, and eyes were scanning Tim.

“Back with me, Kiddo?”. Tim nods and Mr. Wayne brushes the hair on his forehead. Tim’s breath hitches and he just cries.

Why does it hurt? He was just supposed to be getting a drink, why did it end up like this? He should’ve just stayed in bed and went back to sleep.

Mr. Wayne wipes his tears and pulls him against his chest, hugging him and whispering soothing words in his ear.

“Let’s get you something to drink so you could sleep.” Mr. Wayne tells him as he picked him in his arms, Tim yelps but Mr. Wayne settles him and carries him down the stairs and to the kitchen.

He sits him down on the chair and goes to the kitchen. Tim wipes his tears.

Mr. Wayne comes back with a glass of water and hands it to Tim. It was cold and soothed his throat as he drank it.

“Timothy,” Mr. Wayne starts, “If you need something don’t hesitate to come to me or Alfred or Jason, okay? And please, just call me Bruce. We will be here for you, you’re family and we only want what’s best for you and your happiness.” Mr. Wayne tells him. Tim doesn’t really know how to reply so he just nods.

The words feel so warm in Tim’s chest. Warmer than all of his previous years in the Drake estate ever was.

After that, Mr. Wayne carries him up the stairs despite his insistence that he doesn’t need to. But Mr. Wayne persisted, and he doesn’t really want to annoy him, so he lets him.

Mr. Wayne tucks him in. Tim thought that he would leave after that, Tim wanted him to stay but he doesn’t want to keep Mr. Wayne. So, he expects him to bid good night after making sure that Tim was settled, but he didn’t he sat at Tim’s bedside, and Mr. Wayne cards his hand through Tim’s hair, telling him to go to sleep and hums a tune. Tim felt glad like someone out there answered his wish. He felt comfort embrace him.

Tim was slowly falling drowsy, thinking that things might get better for him after this. That maybe Bruce won’t leave him like his parents used to do. He would be a good boy. Tim will do his best so that Bruce would keep looking at him as a son.  
“G’d night, Br’ce.” He mumbles and fell into calm dreams. 

//End


End file.
